


Turbulent

by gallifreyanlibertea



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Airplanes, Flight Attendant Alfred, M/M, Shamelessly homosexual Arthur but what's new there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 06:29:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11374503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyanlibertea/pseuds/gallifreyanlibertea
Summary: Oh no, the flight attendant was hot.





	Turbulent

**Author's Note:**

> Tur·bu·lent /ˈtərbyələnt/- not controlled or calm, a.k.a., Arthur Kirkland with a crush.

Arthur knew planes.

With three brothers living in three different countries, he was quite used to the whole process. His local airport map was practically burned into the back of his head, hell, some of the guards there liked to greet him for old times’ sake- old times being the last time his brothers had craved a reunion out of the blue and Arthur found himself forced to comply, boarding a plane at the most ungodly of hours for the sake of Kirkland togetherness.

A case Arthur was forced to repeat today. To board a plane because they  _simply had to meet at this specific given time, no earlier no later!_  Never mind the hole it burned in Arthur’s pocket, family above money!  

At this point, he liked to think he could recite the safety demonstration presentation by heart. Yes, airplane rides were, as made evident by the lack of surprise or thrill, painfully boring.

But yet there he was that particular day, despite all his complaining, despite everything in his body telling him it was just another boring plane ride, there Arthur was- lips parted in what could only be awe, fingers, for the first time, fumbling with the belt in his lap. It was as if, suddenly, everything was foreign to him.

And oh  _god_ , it was the worst. It was the complete  _worst_ because Arthur was helplessly gay and the flight attendant was hot.

_“Now we request your full attention as the flight attendant demonstrates the safety features of this aircraft.”_

Arthur almost snorted. It was as if the announcement assumed for a second that everyone in the plane wasn’t  _already_  looking at the attendant.

Who wouldn’t be? With a blue shirt stretching over those obviously toned arms, the vest pulled taut over that broad chest. His hair parted cleanly down the side, skin dusted with just a little bit of makeup, smile fixed genuinely on his lips as he moved fluidly along with the announcement on the speakers.

_“When the seat belt sign illuminates, you must fasten your seat belt. Insert the metal fittings one into the other, and tighten by pulling on the loose end of the strap. To release your seat belt, lift the upper portion of the buckle.”_

Arthur fumbled with his belt, finding that it didn’t quite twist as it was meant to, it didn’t quite tighten like it was supposed to. Either that or it could’ve been the fact that Arthur was too busy soaking up the sight of the attendant walking down the aisle, a poised, dimpled smile on his face as he pointed at the emergency exits with those long fingers.

He imagined those hands would be quite warm.

_“We will now come down the aisles to ensure everyone is ready for takeoff.”_

It was as if some sort of button was pressed. Some button that sent a jolt through everyone, every single passenger on the plane sat straight up, tucking hair behind ears, moistening their lips, watching coquettishly from under their lashes as the attendant came down the aisle.

Hell, even the children, even the straightest of men were staring. Arthur knew flight attendants were supposed to be pretty, but this. This was just insane.

“Please be sure to tuck your carry-ons under the seat in front of you.” He said to someone somewhere in the front, and Arthur felt the sweat beading on his hairline. That accent, oh, that accent was so  _very_  refreshing. Unlike the jumbled English dialects that bombarded his every day, there was this attendant, with a voice like a Hollywood dream. A deep, yet somehow whimsical American lilt that went perfectly with those baby blue eyes.

Arthur was so, so gay.

“Sir, are you having trouble with your seatbelt?”

Those pearly white teeth, those full lips, the dimples pressing into his cheeks as the man smiled down at him-

At him.

Arthur may have squeaked. “Pardon?”

“Insert the metal bit into the slot in the buckle, and pull on the loose end to tighten.” The attendant said. A small pin glinted against that vest, a golden nameplate. Alfred Jones.

Arthur’s fingers slipped on the buckle and he found himself chuckling nervously, wiping his hands on his trousers, “Sorry, I, uh-”

Those warm hands were on his lap and Arthur definitely squeaked this time, watching with wide green eyes as the hands he’d been drooling about only seconds ago eased the belt into clicking, gently tugging at the loose belt end.

“It’s alright, I’ve met my share of nervous fliers!”

Alfred left with a chipper wink, leaving Arthur practically panting in his wake.

The man sitting next to him gave him a funny look and Arthur scowled, sitting upright and busying himself with the safety card tucked into the pocket in front of him.

After all, it was only two hours and Arthur would never see him again. This was no time to be shameless, and besides, a man like that? Arthur wouldn’t be so lucky,  _couldn’t_  be so lucky.

He was probably straight and  _very_  not into Arthur.

Yet knowing all of this, he still found himself checking his reflection on his phone before the attendants came down the aisle with a snack cart.

“Alfred, is it?” He said, knowing he would regret it to tears only minutes later.

“Yes, sir! Would you like to make a purchase?”

“You can call me Arthur.” Was Arthur’s shaky response, and oh  _god_  he did not just say that.

He did not just ask a stranger, a sexy,  _sexy_  man, to call him by his first name, when there were possibly hundreds of other people on the plane- when Arthur was not even an ounce special- no, he did not. He did  _not_  just assume Alfred cared enough to even look twice in his direction.

Those blue eyes looked momentarily startled and they should’ve been. Especially seeing as a creepy man like Arthur was so obviously hitting on him.

Instead, Alfred broke out into a naive grin, “Hi, Arthur! See anything ya like?”

Oh yes, he definitely did.

But following the correct assumption that Alfred wouldn’t want to hear what was on Arthur’s mind, “Do you have tea, perchance?”

“Yeah! What kind?”

Alfred was deliciously innocent. Well, perhaps he was really good at hiding his disgust, he was a gorgeous flight attendant. He had no doubt been grossly flirted with ten times worse than Arthur could muster.

So Arthur sipped his tea. There was no harm in trying, was there? Despite being the mouse he was, he never did like to give up.

He pressed the call button.

And before one could tease him for it, it’s important to know that other people were doing it as well! Alfred was right there at their beck and call, conversing obliviously with the passenger who’d made up some lame excuse just to throw themselves at him.

So yes, Arthur would do it too.

Alfred was at his side, “How may I help you-”

Oh, that smile. Arthur swallowed around the lump in his throat, wiping clammy hands against his trousers for what felt like the umpteenth time that day.

And then Alfred paused, smile widening. “- Arthur?”

Oh god, the way his name sounded on those lips. He’d forgotten his excuse.

“Could I, um, I- could you-?”

“A free tea refill?” Alfred offered with a light smile and Arthur nodded furiously.

“Yes, please.”

That was all the dialogue Arthur had prepared for, and that was all he thought he would get. A pleasant, professional conversation. He hadn’t expected Alfred to stand up straight with hands on his hips, lips quirking up in a humored smirk.

“So the stereotype is true!”

“Er- what? Pardon?”

“English people like tea!” Alfred’s grin parted for a charming, boyish laugh. “I can’t even finish half a cup.”

Arthur stared with narrow eyes. This had to be mere pleasantries. Perhaps Arthur had been sweating so profusely that the flight attendant had decided he needed help. That was their job, after all. To make passengers feel comfortable.

Arthur wasn’t very comfortable, but he wasn’t complaining either. “Well, would it be rude for me to assume you like to scarf down hamburgers every odd hour then?”

There was a reason Arthur never spoke to attractive people, ever.

He winced, “Sorry, I-”

Another laugh, this one even cuter than the last. Suddenly, Alfred’s hand was on the back of Arthur’s chair and he was leaning in, smile as warm as the heat radiating off his body.

He smelled like Arthur’s wildest dreams. “All the time, dude, it’s hella hard to keep my figure.”

_Don’t think about his figure._  “I can’t even nibble the greasy thing, it’s disgusting.”

“That was mean, Artie.” Alfred rubbed his chest with a subsiding chuckle, a gesture possibly supposed to mean that Arthur had hurt his feelings somehow. “Ouch.”

“It must be your clogged arteries.”

Alfred threw his head back in yet another delighted laugh, hand slipping from behind the chair to rest innocently on Arthur’s shoulder.

And oh dear, there it was. The sweating, back again. Arthur chewed his lip through a nervous smile, desperately racking his brain for another quirky response. A quip, some banter, anything that would label him as interesting in Alfred’s mind, but it was hopeless.

The gods confirmed it. The airplane trembled and Alfred glanced around in a slightly startled panic.

_“Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the fasten seat belt sign. We are now crossing a zone of turbulence. Please return to your seats and keep your seat belts fastened.”_

He turned those blue eyes back towards Arthur with a simple smile, “I’ll have to go take a seat but I’ll be back as soon as possible with your refill. Sorry for holding’ ya up!”

Arthur watched wordlessly as Alfred walked back down the aisle. Not a look over his shoulder.

His mouth felt cottony.

No, he wasn’t a 16-year-old girl with a crush on the unattainable high school jock. He wasn’t pining for the school’s golden boy, and he certainly wasn’t writing one-sided love letters and slipping them, unnoticed, into Alfred’s locker, but why did it feel like it?

The man had spoken to him twice and he certainly didn’t belong to Arthur, so Arthur shouldn’t have felt that burning throb in the pit of his stomach as Alfred stopped by the seat of some pretty little thing. He shouldn’t have wanted to wring her neck when she laughed at Alfred’s every word, but he did.

He should’ve said something when Alfred dropped off his tea, but no words other than a “thank you” left his lips.

Alfred had responded with a smile and there he was now, talking to some girl who was obviously eighty times prettier than Arthur could ever be.

Arthur watched the exchange go about with a huff.

The way Alfred leaned, like he’d done with Arthur but somehow, it just seemed closer. The way he smiled brighter, laughed louder, Arthur was livid.

Well, it didn’t matter. It was a silly crush. There was a half hour left in the journey and he would never have to see Alfred again.

Oh, but could anyone just quit?

Despite having cursed himself out for his ridiculous behaviour, there he was again, shuffling down the aisle to visit the bathroom. He told himself it was the tea. He’d had two whole cups, that was all. Anyone would need a visit to the loo,  _that was all._  Not because Alfred was currently sitting by the snack carts, nestled next to the occupied bathroom door.

Not at all.

Arthur pretended not to see him there as he stood in wait.

“Arthur! Enjoying the trip?”

Arthur made a face. Something along the lines of- Oh! Didn’t see you there, but I suppose I’ll continue conversing with you, as my boredom permits.

Alfred seemed oblivious to the face, “I’ll bet you’re here because of all the tea.”

Arthur allowed a small smile, “Yes, um, that’s… yes.”

A chuckle. “You’re one nervous dude, first time flying?”

Oh, sweet, sweet boy. He had to have been new to the airport. Else he would’ve recognized Arthur from a mile away, what with the fact that he always wore the ugliest sweaters, always seemed to be on a plane, with his giant dark brows bouncing about with his every expression.

And to be fair, Arthur would’ve recognized Alfred too.

“You could say that.”

“No one to travel with you?” Alfred inquired, pulling open the cart’s drawer to fish out a pack of candy. He tore it open, offering Arthur some, brows raised.  

Arthur declined with a shake of his head, “Well, my family is spread out over a smattering of different nations, I’m mostly alone.”

Then, it hit him.

They were already on the topic, it wouldn’t be utterly shameless to just…

“So what’s it like being a flight attendant? I’m assuming the girlfriend or wife or something doesn’t like you being away from home so long.”

It was every cliché in the book. Hell, it was Arthur’s most well-worn line. He’d just toss it about and wait with bated breath to hear his victim’s sexuality come tumbling out of their mouth.

He’d only ever used it twice. It wasn’t always that Arthur Kirkland resorted to such things. Despite his actions that day, he really did have pride.

“Well, I only just moved to England. I didn’t have time to date before I got the job.” Alfred mumbled, popping a small piece of candy into his mouth. “Besides, if anyone had a problem with my work hours, I’d just break up with them. This job means a lot to me.”

Damn. He used the third person pronoun. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek in quiet frustration. “Right, well. It’s good that you’d stick up for your job.”

“Yeah, my last boyfriend gave me heck for never being home, it’s the worst.”

Arthur choked on air.

The bathroom wasn’t occupied anymore and Arthur practically scrambled in, letting the door click shut as he pressed erratically twitchy hands onto his face.

It was a feeling he’d hardly ever felt. The feeling of shamelessness paying off.

Well, not entirely. What would he do with that information anyway? He was Arthur Kirkland, not quite a seductress. The little he did that day had him sweating buckets! What was he to do, unbutton his grandfather model sweater vest to reveal,  _gasp_ , a completely buttoned, utterly unsexy shirt?

He was done jumping hoops. He was a full grown man, for god’s sake, he had dignity.

So when he left the lavatory, he offered Alfred a polite smile before returning to his seat and occupying his mind idly thumbing through a torn up magazine.

Perhaps in another life, Arthur could have been more robust. Perhaps he could have stolen this Alfred’s heart, or gotten married- yes, it would’ve been a June wedding. They’d have two kids, and two animals. A cat for Arthur, and judging by Alfred’s sunny demeanor, a dog for him. They’d live in a small, white fence cottage and raise their children there amongst the flowers in their backyard.

Arthur would be the bad cop. He wouldn’t like to do it, but Alfred hated to see their kids with little pouts on their faces. And, of course, he hated to see Arthur the same way as well. At the end of every tiring day, he would take Arthur’s face into his hands and kiss him, whispering words into his ear, “Arthur-”

_“On behalf of English Airlines and the entire crew, I’d like to thank you for joining us on this trip and we are looking forward to seeing you on board again in the near future. Have a nice evening.”_

Arthur blinked.

The lights came to a gradual, bright glow. A symphony of clicks, belts being undone, followed and Arthur was one of them. He found himself shifting out of his seat, jumping onto the tips of his toes to retrieve his bag from the overhead compartments.

When had time slipped away so quickly?

Perhaps when he was shamelessly daydreaming about a future with a man he’d met two hours ago.

He rolled his eyes, sighing to himself as he dragged his luggage down the aisle, growling slightly with every bump of the infernal bag against the cramped seats on either side of him.

“Have a good day, thank you! Have a good day, thank you!”

Arthur could feel his cheeks growing warmer as he approached Alfred at the front end of the plane.

“Have a good day, thank you!” Alfred said to the man in front of him, reaching into his pocket to offer a shiny sticker badge to the toddler in the man’s arms.

The toddler squealed in delight and Arthur couldn’t help but smile.

Then, it was his turn.

“Have a good day… Arthur.” Alfred said with a smile, reaching into his pocket.

Perhaps giving him a sticker would be a quip on his height. Maybe Alfred had seen him struggling to reach the overhead compartment? Either way, Arthur paused, scraping every inch of his brain to think of a witty remark to whatever Alfred would have to say to him.

Until the attendant jutted out a scrap of paper, a string of numbers inked on one end.

“I’ll be in England, free all of next week.”

Arthur forgot how to breathe.

He took the number gingerly, thinking, trying to get one last word out before he was inevitably ushered away to give space to the passengers behind him. “I- how did you-?”

Alfred raised his eyebrows as if scoffing at him, crossing his arms.

“Well, I’m not stupid.”


End file.
